Haven’t we all needed one of those from time to time? Certainly, this was truer for seventeen-year-old River Dean than for most of us.A SECOND CHANCE.

Haven’t we all needed one of those from time to time? Certainly, this was truer for seventeen-year-old River Dean than for most of us. He’d taken his girlfriend Penny Brockaway out for a paddle boat ride, and right there—as they bobbed in the middle of Echo Park Lake—she dumped hm.

Why? He’d had no idea this was coming—they’d been dating forever, it seemed, and everything appeared to be going well—and then this bombshell.

“You don’t think about things. You just follow along and do what you think you’re supposed to.”

Well. What was there to think about, when you get right down to it? River was dating a beautiful girl from a wealthy family. This girl and her family loved him, and everything had been rolling along just fine. And what wasn’t to follow along with? When Penny wanted to watch romantic comedies—which River secretly loathed—why not just follow along and be a good, kind, understanding boyfriend?

Because Penny wanted someone who would think for himself, and that’s just the River Dean she encountered when they got back to the dock. River refused to hand over the mooring rope to the guy on the dock. She wanted somebody to think for himself? Hah.

Penny made it off the boat anyway. She sighed at his petulance, and told him to come on, and she’d drive him home. He said he’d just walk home.

It was only thirteen highway miles home, 10.2 on surface streets. Nothing to it, right? River walked and walked—most definitely thinking about things (like why he’d never gotten his license)—until he happened to glance up at an awning:

A Second Chance, it read. It was shabby, as was the storefront, but to River, it was like a message from on high. Here it was! A SECOND CHANCE! He’d find his way to get Penny back.

Taped to the front door was a note:

HERE IS WHERE YOU BELONGTHIS IS WHERE CHANGE BEGINSNOW IS THE TIMECOME ON IN!

How could he not?

What River found inside was a discussion group for young people with issues, including Daphne, a lovely kleptomaniac, who was there as part of her court sentence, Mason, a huge, menacing bulimic, and Chris, who lamented that he “really missed Molly.”

After Chris, it was River’s turn, and he took a cue from Chris that it was okay to be in the Second Chance group just for missing your girlfriend…until he figured out, just before he opened his mouth, that Chris’s “Molly” was not a girl after all. It was a party drug. So River blurted out the first thing that popped into his head, his terrible marijuana addiction.

And thus became the foundation for River Dean’s web of lies. He couldn’t tell his friends or his parents where he was going every Saturday night, nor could he force himself to come clean to the group. The more meetings he attended, the more he found the group to be a solace in his life, but the only way he could justify his continued attendance was to dig himself ever deeper into a pit of lies.

He convinced the beautiful Daphne from group to attend a school dance with him. Although his plan was initially concocted to make Penny jealous, he saw Daphne, and how amazing she looked, how she turned heads wherever she glided. They danced a few dances, and earned several quizzical glares from Penny, then—just when River was enjoying himself—Daphne demanded to leave. Mission accomplished. She saw you with me. She’s mad. Let’s just go. Please.

So often, when things truly begin collapse, it happens on a level we can’t even begin to understand. We’re like characters in a Greek tragedy—if we’d had all the facts, and we could have seen how things would turn out, we’d definitely have made different choices. Instead, in all our ignorance and naïveté, man do we screw it up.

River’s web of lies quickly unravels, and while it’s horrible for him, the way author Dana Reinhardt shows things happen is actually funny. I felt bad about how much I laughed at some of the plot twists. Some you could see coming—I mean, how long can you keep up a fake marijuana addiction (which is almost unheard of)—but the anticipation was to see how Ms. Reinhardt would destroy each illusion.

And she does so with great aplomb.

River’s life will never be the same, sure, but that’s not a bad thing. He’s still smart and good-hearted. By the end of “Tell Us Something True,” though, River has grown up. He finally gets his license, the perfect metaphor for his newfound wisdom.

Oh, he’s still a bumbling doofus at times, but aren’t all of us to some extent? When you’re a teenager, though, it feels so much more intense. As we mature, we gain experience and wisdom, learning how to face difficult situations we encounter, and knowing that sometimes circumstance will kick our asses.

River Dean grows up, or at least he learns some difficult truths. He learns that it’s okay to ask for help, and that this help can come from the most unexpected places. He learns that even one simple little lie can snowball into an avalanche from which there’s seemingly no escape. He definitely starts to “think about things” more so than he did while he was with Penny. Mostly, though, I think River learns that—no matter how badly we mess things up—if we look for it, we can find that one elusive thing we need the most.

A second chance.

Recommended(nb: I received an advance review copy of this book from the publisher)

But somehow, when tragedy strikes, people remember the sky. In documentaries about the JSevere clear.

Such an ominous sounding term for a perfect sky.

But somehow, when tragedy strikes, people remember the sky. In documentaries about the JFK assassination, a morning shower had stopped, leaving behind beautiful blue skies. When the space shuttle Challenger blew up shortly after launch, it was one of the deepest blue skies I’ve ever seen, so clear that I could clearly see that horrible plume all the way from Tallahassee.

September 11th, 2001, dawned with New York skies exemplifying what pilots refer to as “severe clear”: unlimited ceiling, unlimited visibility. Some pilots joke that these skies are so clear you can see tomorrow.

Nobody would want to see tomorrow, not that horrible morning.

On 9/11, sixteen-year-old Kyle Donahue was among the throngs walking away from the wreckage in Manhattan after the planes struck and the Twin Towers collapsed. The crowd was nervous, but strangely calm. Everybody knew they needed to evacuate to Brooklyn, where hopefully they’d be safe.

Kyle was concentrating on the task at hand—keeping his feet moving—when he noticed something in his peripheral vision: a giant bird. He kept walking, then something told him to go back. Something was amiss. This huge bird might be injured. He turned back, fighting his way through the crowd. When he finally reached the bird, he saw what it truly was. It was a girl about his age, wearing a pair of costume wings—the type you might wear in a play or to a Halloween party. The girl was definitely not a bird, those wings were definitely not made for flying, and she was most definitely pondering the waters of the East River below--she was about to jump.

Kyle caught her in time. He got her to her feet, and guided her back into the crowd heading toward Brooklyn. It was obvious the girl was in some sort of trouble. She couldn’t answer the most basic questions—where do you live? Are you hurt? What should I call you? Left with no other option, Kyle led her home to his family’s comfortable apartment—if nothing else, the skies were still clear over Brooklyn, while the world to their backs lay beneath hellish clouds of smoke and ash and debris.

The girl was filthy, covered in the very ash that blanketed Manhattan. He found some clean clothes that would probably fit her well-enough, and guided her to the bathroom so she could shower. He even did his best to clean the dust and ash from the wings.

Until 9/11, Kyle’s life—like that morning’s sky—had been pretty clear. He was a gifted student at Manhattan’s prestigious Stuyvesant High School. He had a tough but loving father, a Lieutenant with the NYPD’s Joint Terrorist Task Force His mother was kind, a trust-fund baby, which is how they could afford the family’s nice Brooklyn apartment. He had a younger sister, Kerri, who—like all little sisters—was a pain in the ass, but you could hear the affection and love he held for her.

As with all of us, occasional storm clouds invaded Kyle’s sky. His beloved Uncle Matt had been in a serious motorcycle accident five months previous, and was confined to a wheelchair, unable to speak clearly or take care of himself. (Thankfully, the family hired Karina, a wonderful caregiver to help with Matt). Also, all of the Donohue men were cops—Kyle’s dad, Uncle Matt, and his Uncle Paul—and nobody really understood why Kyle would want to pursue anything other than joining the NYPD, much less go to Stuyvesant rather than nearby Brooklyn Tech. Kyle once had a passion for playing guitar, but his father and Uncle Paul mocked that as well, and the passion abated. He still loved music—especially U2—but his Guild acoustic rested in its case, untouched for months.

That horrible morning, though, Kyle’s life looked as foreboding as the hideous cloud over Manhattan. His father would have been a first-responder, and Kyle had no idea whether he was alive or dead. His mother and sister were in California, and were due to fly back that morning. Kyle had no idea what fate had befallen them—were they in the air? Were there other hijackings? Bombs at LAX? Amidst the chaos, Karina had not been able to make it to work, meaning Kyle would have to take full responsibility for Uncle Matt’s care. Also, were his classmates safe? His friends? How bad would the damage ultimately be, and—oh, my God—were the attacks even over? Were we at war?

And then there was the strange girl currently occupying his sister’s room. Who was she? She seemed hugely traumatized, and Kyle was convinced she had been about to jump from the Brooklyn Bridge. The girl wouldn’t answer even the most basic questions—did she even know who she was or what had happened? She was an additional problem Kyle didn’t need, especially with all his other new responsibilities, but there was something sad and mysterious about her. He knew she couldn’t go out into the world by herself, not in her current condition, but there was more to it. She was a riddle, and Kyle was determined to solve her.

The fact that she was cute didn’t hurt, either.

My boldest memory from 9/11—other than those wretched images the networks repeated constantly—was that I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. They’d knocked down the Twin Towers, destroyed a section of The Pentagon, and where had that fourth plane been headed? The White House? The Capitol? What the hell could possibly happen next?

I think most of us pondered that during those days, whether those horrors were the end of a single attack, or the start of a war.

But during those days, life still went on. Meals were cooked and eaten. Dishes were washed. People bathed and did laundry and went to work. Despite our deep-seated national fear, we managed to keep up with life’s basic cadences.

So did Kyle. Drawing on strength he hadn’t known he possessed, he managed, too. He took care of Uncle Matt. He did laundry. He cooked meals. He managed to track down information about his father, and his mother & sister. He reached out to friends, and learned that some of his peers had lost family in the World Trade Center. He felt horrible for them, and intended to call and offer condolences…

But then there was the girl, that puzzling damn girl. Kyle knew he should take her to the police station or a hospital, but she adamantly refused to go. She begged and pleaded. She wouldn’t say why, but she was obviously scared, so Kyle let her stay. At least for a few days, till things simmered down. Plus, he liked having her around, a welcome distraction from the hell a few miles away.

What Gae Polisner has done in her wondrous, addictive novel, The Memory of Things, is to show through Kyle what we all had to do. We had to grieve, of course—not to do so would be inhuman---but we also had to move on with our lives. A few thousand people were dead or dying, and yet the rest of us still had gas tanks to fill, groceries to buy, diapers to change. Our hearts ached, but we had to keep our heads clear, and make sure our lives continued normally.

That’s how Ms. Polisner presents Kyle Donohue. He’s a scared sixteen-year-old kid who’s been forced to shoulder adult responsibilities, to keep life going despite the chaos across the river.And Kyle’s narrative is as straightforward as his thinking. His thoughts are coherent and clear. He worries about holding everything together, but he manages to do just that. The big wrinkle, though, is the girl. How would he ever return her to her family—and did she even have any family left?

The girl’s portion of the narrative is far different from Kyle’s. Where Kyle steps-up for their odd little family—Kyle, Uncle Matt, and her—her thoughts are a jumble of seemingly random images. Swimming as a child one minute, then dancing, then explosions, then wondering about that boy (“Kyle?”), and what he was going to do with her.

Ms. Polisner writes the girl’s part beautifully. The girl’s mind shimmers with clear, poetic snapshots of memory (or imagination? We can’t tell!). Using these snapshots, we try and piece together who this girl is, her backstory, and where she needs to go next. Initially, her thoughts are so brief and disjointed, her communication so fractured, that we imagine she probably needs a psych ward.

As her four days in the Donohue home pass, though, her thoughts become somewhat clearer. The images coalesce somewhat, and we can see that while she was obviously traumatized by the attacks, there is something even worse, something more damaging and painful that happened to her well before 9/11. The girl’s thoughts imply this event marked her forever, and have left her afraid to open herself up, even to Kyle, her rescuer.

Even after three days together, she still hasn’t told Kyle her name. Initially, she may not even remember it herself, but as lucidity sets in, she begins to recognize her life, and knows she’s just guarding herself.

From what, though? That’s another beautiful part of The Memory of Things. The girl’s mind is not all strictly about memories, about the past. She and Kyle bond during their days together. They become friends. They share conversations, even an afternoon sojourn to a deserted Coney Island. They grow closer, hold hands, and ultimately kiss.

Ms. Polisner could easily have gotten carried away here. She could have had Kyle and the girl fall madly in love, swearing eternal devotion to one another against the smoking ruins across the river. She could have ended the book with an Epilogue, showing the couple twenty years later, sharing a love-rich suburban house with their 2.3 adorable children, and a Golden Retriever named “Daisy.” This would have been such an easy way to wrap up the story. Most readers would be happy for the couple, and we’d all walk away smiling. Fade to black.

But Gae Polisner is too sage an author to lapse into such saccharine cliché. The Memory of Things is too great a story to end on such an unworthy note. If nothing else, these two beautifully drawn characters deserve more than a cheap way out.

In the end, the various strands eventually come together, and we can see how the two teens’ situations will inevitably change. We finally gain insight into the girl’s tragic past. ( I was certain I had it figured out pretty early, and it turns out Gae Polisner threw the nastiest literary curveball I can remember right by me; I couldn’t have been more wrong.)

We’re left to wonder: will Kyle and the girl stay in touch, build on their trial-by-fire relationship, and grow ever closer? It’s possible. They are one another’s first loves, but their circumstances were far more intense than the typical, mawkish, teenagers meet-cute story. There was no nervous promposal or sweaty-palmed attempt at hand-holding.

Together or apart, we know that these two will see plenty of blue skies, some puffy white clouds, and no doubt their fair share of gray, rainy days. This is normal; this is real life.

We’ve seen this girl move from wanting to kill herself to relishing the small bits of life she and Kyle have shared. We have seen how—defects and all—she helped Kyle learn that he is strong and smart, and wise enough to choose his own path.

Near the end of this ineffable jewel of a story, Kyle finally learns the girl’s name.

Obviously, I won’t reveal it here—it wouldn’t be fair to either the girl or the author—but this girl who walked with Kyle through that terrible week has an appropriately beautiful name.

And it means “grace.”

Most Highly Recommended(nb: I received an advance review copy of this novel from the publisher via NetGalley)...more

Were I in high school, I would totally have a crush on Peyton Breedlove. She’s one of those weird girls who wears tee shirts emblazoned with 1970’s roWere I in high school, I would totally have a crush on Peyton Breedlove. She’s one of those weird girls who wears tee shirts emblazoned with 1970’s rock band logos, and ripped jeans with smiley faces drawn on her exposed knees. She refuses to eat fruits or vegetables with skins.

Oh, yeah. And she’s a pyromaniac.

We all have our faults, though, right?

However, it’s not Peyton that high school senior Hank Kirby has in his sights for a prom date. He wants to ask one of the hottest girls in school, the beautiful, surprisingly nice Amanda Carlisle. Average guy Hank knows that to have any chance, he’ll have to devise something extra special to get Amanda’s attention and woo her into that all-important prom date. His plan seems brilliant.

Literally.

One night, he sneaks into Amanda’s front yard, and sticks sparklers in the ground, spelling out “PROM.” He lights them, then calls Amanda’s name. She comes to the window just in time to see the huge cedar tree in her front yard burst into flames and threaten to burn down her house. Hank’s ingenious plan had basically turned into arson. Hank turns tail and hauls ass away on his bike, hoping he can escape.

When he discovers a missing piece of evidence, he returns to the scene, only to find the mysterious Peyton holding the incriminating sparklers box. She compliments him on his fire and returns the box.

Thus begins a friendship, a ride so wild Hank could never have imagined where it would lead.That’s the beauty of Robin Reul’s novel “My Kind of Crazy”: the characters.

Everyone has their quirks. Hank’s best friend, for example, is a lazy-eyed Italian named Nick, whose father is rumored to have killed a man. The two are the type of friends who are thrust together by circumstance. Neither of them are horrible geeks, but they’re certainly not A-list popular.

All too soon, Peyton finds Hank and Nick in the cafeteria, and an interesting triangle is set up. Amanda and prom pretty much disappear from Hank’s mind, as he finds himself drawn to the troubled, mysterious Peyton. Then Amanda—who finds the arson/promposal intriguing—sets up an online questionnaire, trying to discover her would-be suitor’s identity so that she can accept his offer and go to prom with him.

Over 400 guys sign up, answering questions about how and why they performed the pyrotechnic act.

How the Amanda Carlisle sweepstakes turns out is just one of the great surprises in “My Kind of Crazy.”

There’s so much to love in this book. To me, the greatest joy in reading it is that Robin Reul obviously had a ball creating this world. Her characters all have their own brand of crazy working. Like all teens, there are parental issues, some worse than others. There are the standard issues all teens face—the inevitable awkwardness, even among the elite, the love for chili cheese fries, worrying about appearance, et cetera. But Ms. Reul loves her characters, and treats them all with affection, even when they’re at their worst.

“My Kind of Crazy” is an apt title, too. Everyone in the novel has their own set of oddities. Even the apparently flawless Amanda…I mean, who sets up an online contest for an unknown guy to be her prom date? Especially when the guy nearly burned down her house. That’s just weird.

What Robin Reul is able to do, though, is show that while we’re all crazy, sometimes our crazies mesh harmoniously, and we create bonds stronger than we ever imagined possible.

I once had a girl tell me, “The crazy in me gets off on the crazy in you.” (It turned out she was a complete lunatic, but it was still a great line)

In the end, Hank, Peyton, Nick, and even Amanda are all changed in their own ways. It’s a tweak of confidence here, a dollop of affection there, and a whole lot of self-discovery along the way. The ending leaves us with a sense that everyone will be okay. Nobody’s life will be perfect. Nick won’t be the lothario he dreams of being, and Hank will never be a hero like in one of his beloved comics, but we know they’ll be fine.

That’s what we do in this world. We make our way through as best we can, even though—as the song goes—“Mama, we’re all crazy now.”

By the way, that song was originally by the English band, Slade, then covered by Quiet Riot.

Peyton would know this. And that’s why I’d have loved her.

Most Highly Recommended(nb: I received an advance review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley)...more

There are so many different openings I came up with to review Liza Wiemer’s miracle of a novel, “Hello?”, yet not one of them really works.

I thought oThere are so many different openings I came up with to review Liza Wiemer’s miracle of a novel, “Hello?”, yet not one of them really works.

I thought of the REM song lyric, “Everybody hurts, sometimes.” In “Hello?”, everybody hurts at some point or another. Sometimes, it’s because of their own actions—a missed signal given or acted upon, a lie left to fester too long. Other times, the hurt comes from the death of a most-cherished loved one, or memories of long-ago wounds. Still others hurt because they don’t know how to relate to their loved ones’ pain—or when, simply, to give them the space and time they need to sort out their feelings.

I thought, too, of a really nasty curveball. In baseball, a great curveball comes out of the pitcher’s hand, and it looks so incredibly enticing—OMG, this guy made a mistake! I’m going to smash this into the cheap seats—then, right at the point the batter swings, the ball breaks sharply downward, and bat misses ball by a ridiculous margin. “Hello?” is full of curveballs. Liza Wiemer’s characters all have their secrets and scars (some scars metaphorical, others corporeal). When some of her characters think they know another’s truth, there’s the sharp break, and they’re off by a mile.

Similarly, as readers, we are kept back on our heels, as curveball after curveball leaps up at us from the page. Practically every time we know just what a person has been through or why they behave a certain way, there it is, and we’re left wide-eyed, wondering how we could’ve been so badly fooled.

This isn’t authorial trickery, though. It’s our own fault for expecting people—and characters—to be so easily predictable and shallow, that we can properly assume what lurks beneath their respective surfaces. We know the clichés: the good-hearted, nice-guy jock, the unruly party girl, the emo outsider, the emotionally stunted sad girl. We know them all so well, but “Hello?” chips through these veneers, and shows us what we so rarely see: the insecurities and desperation to be understood that lurks around dark corners in each of our hearts. It is a tribute to Ms. Wiemer that her writing peels back these layers, so we can see in her characters those same emotions and feelings most of us try to hide.

The image I finally settled upon as best representing “Hello?” is the Olympic Rings. Five rings, interconnected into one symbol.

Indeed, “Hello?” has five main characters, all of them high school seniors. There’s Tricia, who just lost her grandmother, her last surviving relative, and her only link to her past. Emerson is a popular jock and excellent student, whose heart holds a terrible guilt he’s incapable of releasing. Angie has secrets so dark she can only express her thoughts through her poetry journal. Brian is a potter, a hugely talented artist, who sets his own life aside for his best friend, a choice that hurts them both. Brenda is a brilliant actress and screenplay writer, who is most comfortable seeing herself in the third-person, as if she were a character in her own drama. These five lives intersect in some ways that are predictable—students at the same small high school would obviously know each other, for example—but it’s the serendipitous way other circles connect that makes “Hello?” such a joy to read.

GOD, there are so many things I would love to write about “Hello?”, but spoilers. “Hello?” deserves for each reader to approach it without any preconceived notions, able to savor every nuance and twist with fresh eyes.

At the end of the day, The Universe has an odd way of working things out, and what begins with a tearful, late night, wrong number phone call, can somehow end up with a hugely satisfying resolution. The Universe has a bitch of a curveball. So does Liza Wiemer. “Hello?” is a beautiful, intelligent, unpredictable ride.

When Dale Alden of the Duxbury Historical Preservation Society awakes on the morning before Thanksgiving, there's a turkey hanSynopsis from Goodreads:

When Dale Alden of the Duxbury Historical Preservation Society awakes on the morning before Thanksgiving, there's a turkey hanging from a tree in his backyard, a duck hanging from a rope in his fridge, an ill-tempered farmer in his bedroom, cops on his doorstep, and his son's greasy, drumstick-clutching hand in his face. And that's all before he leaves for work. Mutant ninjas, a talking whale, kung-fu masters, maniacal Pilgrims and an alcoholic clown populate Chris Genoa's surreal, darkly comical and unnerving reimagining of the first Thanksgiving.

I don't usually do that. I never cut and paste the Goodreads synopsis, since I like to describe a book in my own words. In the case of "Lick Your Neighbor," I was just sitting here, staring at the cursor. And the cursor started to look a lot like a turkey.

Okay, not really, but "Lick Your Neighbor" will leave you so up to your ass in demented Thanksgiving lore, that you will start imagining turkeys. Even beaked, deadly turkey-faced ninjas piling out of a black Cadillac. Or a mohawk-coiffed turkey with mad ninja skills of his own...and a few more secrets up his, er, whatever turkeys have for sleeves. If that weren't enough, we peer back to the 1600's, and see that our early Pilgrims had their own insane trouble with turkeys.

"Lick Your Neighbor" is just nuts, but in a good way. It's hysterically funny in parts, and the action carries the story quickly to an awesome, darkly comic ending.

London Noble is a high school senior, who—unlike most of her counterparts—doesn’t want to be popular. She really just wants to fly under the radar, unLondon Noble is a high school senior, who—unlike most of her counterparts—doesn’t want to be popular. She really just wants to fly under the radar, unnoticed, till she can graduate and move on.

Her life is complicated by her younger sister, Jasmine, who is mentally unstable and doesn’t always take her meds. Add into the mix that she and her sister are polar opposites who have to share a room, plus London’s serious dislike of her estranged father, and you find one very stressed-out young woman.

Oh, yeah. Plus London is secretly gay.

One day, she finds herself invited to join the drama club. A girl London has been crushing on is in the club, so she accepts. While there, she meets Wade, a hugely popular stud. The two bond in drama club, and become friends of a sort.

Oh, yeah: it turns out Wade is secretly gay, also.

Their solution is a simple, if ill-advised one: London and Wade will act like a couple. They go on double-dates, carry on in school hallways, and look like a legitimate dating couple.

Where the complications arise is that few of the school’s popular girls can believe Wade would date London, who’s essentially a nobody. The only possible explanation, in their eyes, is that London is putting-out. After a night of drama club…well, drama, the rumor gets out that London has slept with another popular boy. Then another boy confesses that he, too, has had sex with London. Then another.

Eventually, London—who’d wanted nothing but anonymity—finds herself called the school slut. Her locker becomes emblazoned with the words “Dirty London,” and the popular girls are ruthless in taunting her.

Her only solace seems to be with Amber, a quiet fellow drama club student. Amber understands and serves as a friend when London most desperately needs one. The two grow closer, until London has forgotten all about the crush that got her into drama club in the first place.

Kelley York’s novel, “Dirty London,” does an excellent job presenting a troubled young girl. London just wants to escape high school unnoticed, and yet there she is, embroiled in the biggest social scandal of the year. Her relationship with her popularity-driven sister deteriorates with each subsequent embarrassing revelation, especially when London figures out exactly where Jasmine’s psych meds have been going.

London can’t believe the situation she’s found herself in, but with Amber’s help, she manages to cope. When illusions begin to dissolve in her world—when the truths out—London’s life becomes quite a bit easier.

I love Ms. York’s portrayal of London. I didn’t really want to be popular in high school, either. Let the other kids worry about it. Like a lot of teens, I just kept my head down and did my work, till I could graduate and go off to college. I had more friends than London—most kids do—but the idea was the same. Popular kids have some sort of manifest destiny to be popular, a golden ticket few of us are given.

Jasmine, too, is beautifully written. She is embarrassed by her sister in general. She doesn’t want any of her popular friends to know that London is her older sister. She cringes every time somebody could make the association. The way their relationship evolves is wonderfully handled.

I also like the way Amber figures into the story. There were no explosive meeting sparks. Amber just wants to be in the background, too. She doesn’t act in drama club. All she wants to do is work on sets and backdrops. That’s a perfect metaphor for her role in school, even as she grows to be more of a star in London’s eyes.

High school can be a bitch under the best of circumstances. In London’s case, it grows to seem insurmountable. But with Amber’s help and Wade’s—plus her mom’s—London can find her way through, and thrive despite her tumultuous year.

One of my favorite things about “Dorothy Parker Drank Here” is learning that author Ellen Meister has created a series starring the sharp-tongued Mrs.One of my favorite things about “Dorothy Parker Drank Here” is learning that author Ellen Meister has created a series starring the sharp-tongued Mrs. Parker. Book #1 was the excellent “Farewell, Dorothy Parker.” “Dorothy Parker Drank Here” is the second installment.

Here, Mrs. Parker decides she doesn’t want to be alone for all eternity. So she tries to get reclusive author Ted Shriver—who’s holed-up in one of the Algonquin Hotel’s rooms, impatiently waiting to die from a brain tumor—to sign the famed Algonquin Guestbook. If he signs, he will be allowed to remain in The Algonquin as long as he wants.

Mrs. Parker’s problem, however, is that all of her friends seem anxious to move on into the light once they die. She’s not ready to go.

She soon finds herself helping TV production assistant, Norah Wolfe, as she tries to land an interview with the intensely private and rude Shriver. Between guiding Norah, and cajoling Ted Shriver directly, wheels are set in motion. However, the story takes twists and turns Norah is ill-prepared to handle, and in the end, she faces what could be the greatest tragedy of her young life.

The beauty of this series, of course, is that Dorothy Parker’s ghost plays such a role in things. She’s ready to tongue-lash any idiots who cross her path, and there are plenty of idiots, both in New York and the various situations she encounters. It’s almost like “Murder, She Wrote,” but with a shrewish wit helping her various new acquaintances.

As in “Farewell, Dorothy Parker,” Ms. Meister shows an encyclopedic knowledge of Dorothy Parker’s wit. Even when not using one of Mrs. Parker’s direct quotes, the author has a firm, hilarious command of what she would say, and how she would say it.

Dorothy Parker is sui generis in American letters. She could out-snark anybody, which is what makes her such a wonderful recurring heroine. It will be interesting to see whether Ms. Meister can maintain the first two volumes’ quality across a series. After all, Mrs. Parker deserves no less.

Years ago, I was out drinking with a friend who was having marital problems. He was on his third marriage to the same woman, a decidedly unstable womaYears ago, I was out drinking with a friend who was having marital problems. He was on his third marriage to the same woman, a decidedly unstable woman at that. I couldn’t help but ask him, “Dave, WHY do you keep marrying her, when it always ends up like this?”

He was referring to the notoriously tumultuous relationship between F. Scott Fitzgerald and his wife, Zelda Sayre, the so-called “King and Queen of The Jazz Age.”

Their legend is famous: wild parties, famous friends, a relationship so vibrant it crackled from New York City to the fashionable salons of Europe. Scott was uncontrollably alcoholic; Zelda battled severe mental illness. It’s as legendary as Fitzgerald’s magnum opus “The Great Gatsby.”

That’s the hard part about reading this book: remembering that it IS, in fact, a novel. The writing and tone are perfect representations of what an autobiography would sound like. Ms. Fowler has researched Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald exhaustively, and that comes through in this book.

I keep calling it “a book,” because it really transcends belief as a novel. Many of the details are real, gleaned from other tomes written about this magical, tragic pair. So much was written about the two, that there is no shortage of source material, and I get the feeling Ms. Fowler has read it all.

But what she fills in are the personal details, the “behind closed doors” realities that other tomes leave behind. We see Zelda playing with the couple’s daughter, Scottie, making paper dolls and learning French together. We are a fly on the wall for horrific arguments and the odd lashing out. We see the nasty splits and the passionate makings-up.

The human villain here—the one who Zelda says led Scott astray—is Ernest Hemingway. The book is filled with references to Hemingway, and his various misbehaviors and cruelties toward both Fitzgeralds. (In his book “A Moveable Feast,” Hemingway was less than kind in his portrayal of F. Scott Fitzgerald, so that part feels believable.)

The way Zelda narrates her life with Scott is equally believable.For all of the majesty and hell of her ride with Scott, Zelda Fitzgerald—Queen of The Jazz Age—was really just Zelda Sayre, daughter of a Montgomery, Alabama, judge. That’s how she is at the narrative’s beginning and, having come full circle, at the story’s end.

The relationship between Scott and Zelda is truly, legendarily tragic. I’m not a Fitzgerald scholar by any means, but I’ve read about the alcoholism, tempestuousness, and constant money problems.

The couple’s relationship has to be the most storied relationship of that period, a tale of grandeur and human weakness. What Therese Anne Fowler has done in “Z: A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald” is to flesh out this tale in a conversational style, to give humanity and validity to the salacious legends. Ms. Fowler’s work is an amazing achievement.It’s just really damned hard to believe that it’s a novel.

Violet Epps is a famous film critic for America’s top weekly entertainment magazine. Her specialty—the very core of her celebrity—is her acerbic skeweViolet Epps is a famous film critic for America’s top weekly entertainment magazine. Her specialty—the very core of her celebrity—is her acerbic skewering of bad films. So arrogant are her reviews, that it’s difficult to believe how shy she is in real life. She avoids television appearances, and refuses to use her fame to get good seats at restaurants or other perqs.

Not everyone is so shy about using her fame. Violet had a reservation for lunch at New York’s famous Algonquin Hotel. She was going to break-up with her boyfriend, who was planning to move in that weekend. He loudly used her name to get seated and order drinks, mortifying Violet, and strengthening her resolve to end the relationship. When the moment is at hand, the Algonquin’s general manager comes to her table, and asks whether Violet will sign the restaurant’s guestbook. Violet looks through the book, and sees the first page. Right there is the signature of her idol, Dorothy Parker.

When Violet touches Mrs. Parker’s signature, she’s suddenly taken with a fit. It’s almost like Dorothy Parker’s spirit is possessing her. But that couldn’t happen, right? Violet faints. When she comes-to a few moments later, she slips the Algonquin register into her bag, and rushes from the hotel.

Back in her apartment, she opens the book again, and touches Mrs. Parker’s signature. Suddenly, Dorothy Parker is sitting there in Violet’s living room, asking for a cocktail.

Thus begins Violet’s incredible journey with Dorothy Parker. Mrs. Parker—she always insists on being called Mrs. Parker, and calling Violet Ms. Epps—serves as a teacher, a friend, a confidante, a nuisance, and a general befuddlement to Violet. Generally, Mrs. Parker occupies her own body (she can be corporeal as long as the guestbook is open). There are other times when she possesses Violet, generally when Ms. Epps needs a little backbone.

As their relationship wears on, Violet does grow stronger. With Mrs. Parker’s help, she’s able to dump her boyfriend, find a new boyfriend, improve her standing at work, and—best of all—fight for custody of her niece, Delaney.

The transformation from the shrinking Violet to the strong Ms. Epps is a striking one, and it’s one of the great joys of “Farewell, Dorothy Parker.” At the book’s core, though, is the beautifully realized friendship between the two women. Dorothy Parker was famous for her biting, frequently harsh wit, and we are privy to that. I laughed out loud at a bunch of her bon mots, and my Kindle is filled with highlighted quotes.

There are tender parts, too, where Violet helps Dorothy deal with her insecurities and her own fears. Their relationship is hardly just teacher and pupil.

By the book’s end, both Violet Epps and Dorothy Parker are redeemed, and ready to move on with their life and afterlife, respectively.

It’s been a long time since I’ve so thoroughly enjoyed a book like this. The characters are wonderful, especially author Ellen Meister’s portrayal of Dorothy Parker. I recently had the pleasure of reading the biography, “Dorothy Parker: What Fresh Hell Is This?” by Marion Meade, and Ms. Meister does an excellent job of capturing Mrs. Parker’s essence. It’s always dicey when an author mixes real characters into an otherwise fictional novel. “Farewell, Dorothy Parker” does this seamlessly.

This is one of those novels that ended long before I was ready for it to end. However, it wraps-up at the right time, and on the right note.

All in all, “Farewell, Dorothy Parker” contains periods of pure joy, interspersed with serious patches. In short, it’s the same rollercoaster ride most of our lives are.

Albert Camus' "The Stranger" is a difficult book to classify. On one hand, it's a novel. On the other, it's an exposition of the author's philosophy,Albert Camus' "The Stranger" is a difficult book to classify. On one hand, it's a novel. On the other, it's an exposition of the author's philosophy, which is based in absurdism. (Though frequently considered to be an Existentialist, Camus denied this)

Mersault is the main character, and he quickly comes across as an oddity. He has to attend his mother's funeral. He'd had her committed to a state-run home for the elderly, because he was unable to care for her. When he arrives at the home for the funeral, he declines offers to see his mother's body. He drinks coffee and smokes cigarettes during the de rigeur overnight vigil, and shows no emotion at the funeral, not even a single tear.

He develops a relationship with a girl named Marie, whose company he enjoys. When she asks him whether he loves her, though, he replies that he'd probably have to say he does not. Then, a short time later, she asks if he would marry her, and he agrees to do so if it would make her happy. Again, though, he denies that he loves her.

That sets the theme for the whole novel. While Mersault takes pleasure in normal things--eating, sex, swimming, drinking wine--he lacks any sort of emotional attachment to people.

For example, he says that he would have preferred his mother not have died, but he doesn't really feel sad--sadness is futile, and it won't bring her back. Same with Marie: if Marie would be happy by marriage, okay, but he doesn't feel love for her. He enjoys her company, but there's no reason to fake an emotion he doesn't feel.

Later, when Mersault kills a man, he can't really explain why he did it. He pleasantly describes the details to the magistrate, but he never shows remorse. This is something that happened. Things happen. He says that the only things that matter are what just happened, what's happening now, and what will happen in the immediate future.

Thus, he can't be troubled to feel sadness over his mother's death. She's dead, and she will always remain dead. Even when he's in prison, awaiting execution, he finally reasons that every man dies. His death will just be sooner rather than later, but the important thing is the beauty of the night sky.

The first time I read "The Stranger," I was a senior in high school. I remember being more repulsed by Mersault than I was reading it now. I think it's because I've grown more cynical over the years. When I was seventeen, the ideas Mersault held fast seemed horrific, impossible to accept.

Now, thirty years later, I can relate more. No, I'm not an emotional automaton like Mersault. I guess I've just seen enough death and enough broken relationships to have learned not to be crushed by the weight of emotions. It doesn't get any easier when somebody dies, but the sting fades a bit more quickly. I DO feel love, and it hurts when it ends.

There's still something disquieting about Mersault as a person. That's why I look at "The Stranger" as more of a philosophical treatise than a novel. As a character, he's fairly reprehensible. As a model of absurdist thought, he's brilliant.

In the end, for as much as we might feel sorry for Mersault lacking "normal" feelings, he realizes that he's happy. He's facing impending execution, but he's happy. And he's always been happy.

"The Stranger" is hardly a cheery book, but it's a pleasant revelation to know that Mersault's happy, even if he's a bafflement to everyone else.

Highly Recommended

(It's one of the 100 books you should really read before you die. And it's short, so there's that, too.)...more

If you're a fan of the original Star Wars trilogy--as well as a fan of Shakespearean prose--you will find perhaps no greater treat than Ian Doescher'sIf you're a fan of the original Star Wars trilogy--as well as a fan of Shakespearean prose--you will find perhaps no greater treat than Ian Doescher's "William Shakespeare's Star Wars" trilogy.

The premise is simple, if painstakingly difficult to execute. Doescher took one of Hollywood's most-beloved film series, and wrote it as William Shakespeare would have.

Well, or might have, if The Bard knew anything about Death Stars and androids.

All three films are reimagined in beautiful Shakespearean language. This takes some serious skill on the author's part. Not only did he need a firm grounding in William Shakespeare's writing style, he also needed an expert knowledge of the Star Wars saga.

"The Jedi Doth Return" is the third installment, and it's a good one. We follow Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Princess Leia--and loyal droids C3PO and R2D2--as they battle "Jabba of the Hutt" for their freedom. Then it's off to the forest moon of Endor, where they have to disable the newly renovated Death Super Star's energy shield, in order that the rebellion can destroy it. Then--huzzah!--peace will reign throughout the Universe.

Ah, if only it were that easy. The evil Emperor Palpatine and his dark henchman, Darth Vader, have other plans. The forest moon housing the energy shield generator is full of Imperial troops. Forsooth! The Rebels were tricked! Thus, Han, Leia, Chewy, and the droids have to team up with small, teddy bearesque creatures called Ewoks to defeat the Imperial troops and disable the shield.

Even worse, Luke Skywalker is bound to face off with Darth Vader, who we know from "The Empire Striketh Back" is actually Luke's father. Luke's plan is to turn his father back from the Dark Side, and restore him to his destined place as a Jedi Knight.

If you're one of the three or four dozen people on Earth who hasn't seen "The Return of The Jedi," I won't spoil the story.

All I can do is tell you that this installment of "William Shakespeare's Star Wars" is an amazing ride.

One small note, though. I think the first two episodes translated slightly better to the Shakespearean treatment, for they worked better at conveying the visual aspects of each film. The entire scenes on the forest moon, Endor, were harder for me to imagine strictly based on the description. I don't think this was any fault of Ian Doescher's at all, just that "The Return of The Jedi" had settings far different from the more easily described space sets in the first two. (Even the desert scenes in the first novel were more readily translated to prose)

I remember feeling the same way watching "Return of The Jedi" in the cinema. When it got to the forest moon, I shook my head: What the hell is THIS doing out in space? It was like Star Wars had moved to a redwood forest.

That small observation aside, reading "The Jedi Doth Return" kept a smile on my face, just as the first two installments did. The stories are so familiar to me--and, I imagine, to literally millions of others--that this revisiting was a joy to read.

If you hated the Star Wars films, I doubt you'll like this book. If you loved Star Wars, but you're iffy on Shakespearean prose, you might still like it. The language here is not as foreboding and impenetrable as much of Shakespeare's work, and the narrative construction often cracked me up.

For example, R2D2's dialogue is, true to the film, a bunch of beeps and blaps and whistles. However, when R2 speaks to the audience in an aside, he's surprisingly sarcastic and funny.

All in all, Ian Doescher's "William Shakespeare's Star Wars" series is a joy to read, a true tour de force of writing skill. More importantly, though, it's an inspired piece of storytelling from an author who's also--quite obviously--a huge fan of these epic tales.

It's perhaps ironic that a book about books and a bookstore is so damn hard to write a book review about.

Clay Jannon lost his job at an upstart, high-It's perhaps ironic that a book about books and a bookstore is so damn hard to write a book review about.

Clay Jannon lost his job at an upstart, high-tech bagel chain. Desperate for cash, he ends up getting a job at Mr. Penumbra's 24-Hour Bookstore in San Francisco. What soon becomes a bafflement to Clay is that very few of the customers on his overnight shift seem interested in the store's small new book selection. They ask for volumes from "the wayback" shelves, towering shelves of books with obscure names. Moreover, they don't pay for the books: those patrons of the Wayback books all have library cards. They bring in one book, and leave with another.

One night, Clay opens one of the books, only to find that it's gibberish, strings of letters that make no sense.

In time, he meets a young Google programmer named Kat Potente, who helps unlock one mystery of the shelves. This leads to a greater mystery, one involving Festina Lente,a secret cabal of book decoders hidden deep beneath New York City. Clay's link to Festina Lente comes from Mr. Ajax Penumbra himself.

The Festina Lente group are trying to crack the code of a centuries-old manuscript that may--just may--contain the key to immortality.

Add in a common, though mysterious, font called Gerritszoon, and the entire mystery grows as thick as San Francisco sea fog.

My description doesn't do this novel justice. The story is so wonderfully quirky and unusual, that it defies easy summation. The characters are unusual, yet so fully drawn, that you can't help but fall in love with them (well, with MOST of them, anyway).

Clay comes off as being the most normal character in the book, and as such, he's a perfect narrator. He seems to accept the eccentrics he encounters in stride, and he works with the information he's given, regardless of how bizarre it may seem.

Author Robin Sloan has created a beautiful mythology living just below our workaday surface. Stir in the aforementioned eccentrics, and you have the recipe for a truly entertaining read.

Once again, author Darby Karchut shows off her amazing knack for building on each installment of a series, making each book better than the last.

In thOnce again, author Darby Karchut shows off her amazing knack for building on each installment of a series, making each book better than the last.

In the Adventures of Finn MacCullen series, Ms. Karchut hasn’t struck a bad note yet, but the third book—“The Hound at The Gate”—surpasses even its two predecessors.

The first two novels mainly focus on the relationship between apprentice Finn “Don’t Call Me Finnegan” MacCullen and his Knight, Gideon Lir. We watch as Finn struggles to learn all the skills required to make him a full-blown knight in the ancient Tuatha De Danaan realm.

The first novel—“Finn Finnegan”—shows Finn’s early training, and the dangers that surround this world so new to Finn. The second novel—“Gideon’s Spear”—shows Finn come into his own, gaining confidence and skill, and showing the traits that will make him a brave warrior in his own right.

In the third installment, “The Hound at The Gate,” Ms. Karchut shifts gears a bit. Rather than focusing solely on Gideon and Finn, she gives us a glimpse into the entire Tuatha De Danaan world.

The location is The Festival, a gathering of Tuatha De Danaan from all over. It’s a sort of ancient warrior Woodstock, with feasts, music, and challenges, a chance for Knights and Apprentices to renew old friendships, and—especially for Gideon and Finn—some old rivalries.

Also attending The Festival—crashing the gates is more like it—are the Amandan, fierce goblin-like creatures whose favorite food happens to be Tuatha De Danaan.

Things turn ugly early, as certain people question Finn’s right to attend The Festival, since he comes from a Knight father and a mortal mother. This internecine tension crackles throughout “The Hound at The Gate,” as if the Amandan weren’t enemy enough.

Repeatedly, Finn finds himself locked in combat for his life and that of his friends.

And those were the good times.

On one night of The Festival, the unthinkable happens. A massive army of Amandan force the Tuatha De Danaan to retreat. Things look hopeless. Only incredible bravery by a handful of Knights stands between being vanquished or living to see another morning.

As the battle winds down, Finn becomes embroiled in yet another quarrel regarding his status, this time due to his uniqueness, not his difference. At stake is his future as a trainee, and the chance that he could be forever separated from his beloved mentor, Gideon.

I can’t stress enough how much of a page-turner “The Hound at The Gate” is. I’ve learned better than to start one of Ms. Karchut’s novels before bedtime, since I know I’ll read all night, and never get any sleep.

As interesting as the lives of the Tuatha De Danaan are in the first two novels, “The Hound at The Gate” gives us a broader glimpse into this mythical world. We see the alliances and rivalries within the group. We learn about the hierarchy and ruling body, and we see all of these things disappear when the Amandan mount a full-scale attack. Knights and apprentices work together, regardless of position or personal feelings. There’s a job to do, and each is prepared to defend the group to his or her dying breath.

I say “his or her” advisedly, because one of the highlights in this novel is the introduction of a feisty female Knight named Kel, and her equally feisty apprentice. Needless to say, these two women leave Gideon and Finn utterly flummoxed, even as they more than prove themselves equals to the men in the group.

Ms. Karchut does a wonderful job providing rich description, setting a visual stage against which the battle will be fought. Then she lets fly with the action.

“The Hound at The Gate” is my favorite thus far of the “Adventures of Finn MacCullen” series, primarily because of the expanded view it gives of the warrior group. While the action is plentiful and powerful, I like the quieter moments as well. Here, we see the people behind the flashing daggers and swinging axes. We can see our own groups mirrored in the Tuatha De Danaan, with all of humankind’s foibles, strengths, and weaknesses.

We also see how all of Gideon’s training has rubbed off on Finn. Not just on the battlefield, but in other areas as well.

Like the rest of The Adventures of Finn MacCullen series, “The Hound at The Gate” is classified as a “middle-grade” book. Also like the rest of the series, “The Hound at The Gate” serves as an excellent read for adults, too.

My only complaint is that Ms. Karchut is making us wait till 2016 for the next installment. That’s a long time to wait for such an exciting series.

Most Highly Recommended

(nb: I received an Advance Reader Copy of this book from the publisher)...more

Suicide Watch is a website, where people contemplating suicide gather and discuss their pain, their hopelessness, and their plans to end their lives.

KSuicide Watch is a website, where people contemplating suicide gather and discuss their pain, their hopelessness, and their plans to end their lives.

Kelley York's novel, "Suicide Watch," is one hell of a read.

The book's narrator, Vincent, has been cast out his entire life. His parents gave him up when he was two-and-a-half years old, and every foster family since then let him go as well. He finally lands with an elderly woman named Maggie, who is completely different. She makes it clear that Vincent's stay with her will be permanent, and she lives up to her end of the bargain. She cares for Vincent like a son, helps him change to a school that better suits his needs, and serves as a one woman cheering squad.

She dies during Vincent's high school graduation.

Her estate isn't much, but it leaves Vincent enough money to live on for a year or so, if he's careful. His sense of grief and abandonment, of hollowness, is so acute, that he's driven to think about suicide. He once saw a girl jump to her death from a bridge, and Vincent remembers the peaceful look on her face before she let go of the railing.

A Google search turns up a link to Suicide Watch. Vincent is puzzled, but intrigued enough to sign up. Soon, he finds himself chatting with a girl screen-named Casper, who's dying of cancer and wants to go out on her own terms. He also meets a boy who goes by the name RoxWell. Roxwell communicates entirely through song lyrics.

The cyber-world of Suicide Watch becomes real when Casper invites herself to meet Vincent for a gallery exhibition. Vincent is still defensive and terrified of people, but he manages to bond somewhat with the vivacious Casper.

On Casper's next trip down, she brings RoxWell, a sullen eighteen-year-old. The three engage in an uncomfortable evening.

As time progresses, the three become close friends, and Vincent and RoxWell agree to help Casper when she decides to end her life.

The three friends prop-up one another as they face their individual hells, through sadness and loss, through hope, love, and triumph.

The key to "Suicide Watch" is Vincent, through whose eyes we see everything. We're privy to his thoughts and inner pain, and we can see just how hard it is for him to trust his new friendships. He's so used to being abandoned and made to feel worthless, that it's damned near impossible to believe that people really like him just as he is.

I've suffered from depression for years, and I found myself highlighting passage after passage from Vincent's narrative. "Oh, that's true. That's dead-on." That sort of thing. Vincent is drawn that realistically.

Kelley York does a wonderful job in keeping the story under control. It's not like Vincent meets his new friends, then suddenly begins dancing joyful tarantellas. His distrust of people--individually and in general--is too deep-seated for him to change that abruptly.

Change is gradual, and often painful. Ms. York recognizes this, and she avoids innumerable pitfalls and easy shortcuts she could have used.

In the afterword, she says that this book was the hardest book she's written, that she gets attached to her characters and finds it heartbreaking when they suffer.

It's obvious that she means what she says. Life has dealt Vincent a cruel hand. Ms. York doesn't shy away from his pain. She guides him through it as best she can, hoping--and leaving us to hope--that Vincent finds some sort of recompense in the end.

"Give War a Chance: Eyewitness Accounts of Mankind's Struggle Against Tyranny, Injustice, and Alcohol-Free Beer" is a collection of P.J. O'Rourke's va"Give War a Chance: Eyewitness Accounts of Mankind's Struggle Against Tyranny, Injustice, and Alcohol-Free Beer" is a collection of P.J. O'Rourke's various writings from the late 1980's and early 1990's. If you grew up during the Reagan Years, you'll probably remember many of the stories in this collection from when they were current events--especially various foreign affairs stories (Iran-Contra, e.g.).

O'Rourke also takes jabs at famous books from the era (Lee Iacocca's autobiography, and a book penned by former President and First Lady, Jimmy and Rosalyn Carter). To me, one of the funniest parts of the book is the party games he's invented to play using the Carters' book. It's...well, you'd just have to read it.

The book's biggest section concerns the events leading up to The Persian Gulf War, as well as the war itself. The war--if you recall--was the first one really televised live. O'Rourke gives behind the scenes details of how the press coverage really worked, as well as some horrifying situations he encountered during his time there.

To us--more than a quarter-century after most of these stories were originally published--"Give War a Chance" is most-valuable as an eyewitness historical perspective. O'Rourke's adventures have led him through more than enough dangerous situations.

The real value to fans of the author is his rich, funny prose. It takes a special skill to inject humor into war coverage, for example, but P.J. O'Rourke manages to do just that. He balances his oft-irreverent style with in-depth reporting, without being overly frivolous.

The age and length of these stories would normally earn three stars from me. But I'm giving it four, just because P.J. O'Rourke is so damn funny.

Recommended (Mainly for P.J. O'Rourke fans, and those with interest in that time period's big stories.)...more

(nb: I received a review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley)

In many ways, love is like music. It can soar with passion and verve, or i(nb: I received a review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley)

In many ways, love is like music. It can soar with passion and verve, or it can ring dissonant and harsh. In most relationships, we experience both of these, and endless progressions in between.

Thus, music is the perfect backdrop for budding lovers Shawn Davies and Jaymi Del Harmon. Shawn is a survivor, a former hustler whose L.A. music career was going nowhere. She packed up, and worked her way back to her New England home town. She spent many days playing for whatever people would throw in her guitar case; she spent many nights in her car.

When she got back home, her father refused to see her. He had never forgiven her for coming out as a lesbian back in her teens. When everything seemed lost, she heard the band Passion Play on a local radio station. Shawn had been friends with Passion Play's guitarist and songwriter, Jaymi Del Harmon, and Jaymi agreed to take Shawn in, just till she got her life together.

That period of time kept stretching, as the two women grew closer and closer, till something had to give. At risk? Their burgeoning music careers, close friendship, and blossoming love. The question remained whether the two women's bond could endure new temptations--as well as ghosts from the past--and make their song a joyous melody, or would the entire relationship crumble like the clash of cymbals.

Author Holly Stratimore does a wonderful job melding music and romance into a parallel narrative. As the characters' lives ebb and flow, so does their music. They suffer from writer's block, and their relationship hits snags. It's deftly handled.

I liked the two protagonists, too. Shawn comes off as tough but vulnerable, while Jaymi seems to have it all together, though there's a giant hole inside her. They complement one another beautifully.

I also liked the supporting characters, especially Passion Play's super-brash lead singer, Nikki. Beneath the growl and arrogance, we find an unexpected soft side. It was a nice twist.

Ms. Stratimore throws in enough curveballs so that the story never gets stale, and she brews up plenty of steamy scenes to keep up the sizzle.

"Songs Unfinished" works as a romance. However, there's plenty more to the story. It's obvious the author has a deep knowledge of both music and relationships, and she blends them together into a beautiful chord of a novel.

College sophomores Karina and Rainey are enjoying a night on the town. They close down an art museum, which was featuring a photography exhibit. An exCollege sophomores Karina and Rainey are enjoying a night on the town. They close down an art museum, which was featuring a photography exhibit. An excellent photographer herself, Karina especially was enchanted with the beautiful images.

On the walk back to the garage where they'd parked, the two stumble upon a couple obviously engaged in a very public intimate activity. What happens next reveals that the activity wasn't consensual, and it gets Karina and Rainey both shot. Karina survives; Rainey doesn't.

When Karina returns to college for fall term, she sees her friend everywhere, and every time, Rainey looks a little worse for the wear. Soon, Karina discovers she's not the only one who can see Rainey--as well as other disembodied spirits--and that she might be destined to become a Beckoner, a being whose purpose it is to help souls cross-over to their ultimate destinations.

Karina's decision isn't entirely her own. She meets Eli, an impossibly handsome fellow student, and Gabby, who becomes Karina's new best friend. Now, Karina has to decide whether to embrace her role as a Beckoner, or to remain human. It's her choice. If she becomes a Beckoner, she'll be able to help her friend move on to the next realm. She could also encounter terrifying, evil entities called Ceptors, who could damn both Rainey AND Karina to eternal misery.

Cindy Thomas's novel "Beckon Me (Beckoner #1)" does an excellent job setting up the mythology for what should prove to be an interesting series. Karina is a perfect heroine. Beyond accepting that she's seeing her dead best friend for real, she's even more skeptical when she finds out about Beckoners, much less that she may be one. When Eli also sees Rainey's ghost one day, Karina can't deny it any longer.

Damnation or not, she has to help her friend--Karina owes her that much.

There are sparks between Karina and Eli, though Karina finds him arrogant enough not to succumb to his advances. Instead, they work together to prepare for her new role, and for all the dangers she will be facing.

I like the triangle between Eli, Gabby, and Karina. Karina is utterly clueless in the beginning why Eli and Gabby don't seem to like each other. As the relationships gel, we can see their respective roles in Karina's life.

"Beckon Me" is alternately funny and fascinating, especially as Karina tries to balance her need for Eli's training, with her lust to hone more than her Beckoner skills.

As prepared as Karina becomes, she's just not ready when she faces her first challenge, and the stakes are even higher than she imagined.

Cindy Thomas has written a compelling novel. It's one of those where I kept saying, "All right, just one more chapter." Then, ten chapters later, I'm still reading. That's the sign of an entertaining book, and that's what Ms. Thomas has created here.

The last place Abbey Brooks wanted to be that day was at the mall with her fashionista BFF, Kate, but she couldn't have imagined what would happen nexThe last place Abbey Brooks wanted to be that day was at the mall with her fashionista BFF, Kate, but she couldn't have imagined what would happen next.

She orders fries and a small lemonade from Hot Dog on A Stick, and finds herself entranced by the beautiful girl behind the counter. A few days later, when she and her mom take Abbey's father's guitar in for a tune-up, imagine her shock when that same girl works there, too.

The girl's name is Keeta, and soon she's all that Abbey can think about.

Abbey and Kate are starting their freshman year at Gila High, and Kate makes Abbey pinky-swear to avoid going out for basketball, and to stay away from "the you know who girls," who are apparently legion on the basketball team.

This is one pinky-swear Abbey ends up breaking. She ends up being the JV center, and soon finds herself becoming one of "the you know who girls" herself.

And falling ass-over-tea kettle in love as she does so.

This is the first in "The You Know Who Girls" series, and I loved this book. It moved as quick and sure as a well-executed fast-break play, and Abbey is a charming and funny, yet vulnerable, narrator.

Yes, the person who so ensorcels Abbey is another girl, but author Annameekee Hesik also shows straight relationships as they ebb and flow, glow and explode. The same is true for you know who girls, except most have the extra pressure of trying to hide that they're lesbians.

When I was in high school, I fell ass-over-tea kettle myself for a girl who happened to be three years younger than I was. I loved her to pieces, but I couldn't let my friends know, because she was so much younger. If they'd found out, I would have been in for some razzing, but nothing serious. After all, she was a girl, and I was a boy.

The stakes are higher for the you know who girls. There are people who are filled with hate, sometimes to the point of cruelty or violence, just because of sexual preference. Add that risk into the pressure cooker-like atmosphere of high school, and things could get ugly fast.

Ms. Hesik does an excellent job easing Abbey into this world, and showing the joys and pitfalls she can expect, and not just from her relationship with Keeta, her lovely Hot Dog on A Stick girl. Keeta's a senior, and Abbey's a freshman, so there's that. They're gay, which of course complicates things more. But what I like is that they still have to deal with the basics: they're teenagers in love, and they still have to go to classes every day.

Abbey and Keeta may be lesbian, but they also have basic teenager lives to lead. It's sweet that they can lean on each other for support, despite the bitterness of having to hide their affections.

At day's end, Abbey still needs her mom, her BFF, and--most of all--seriously good grades to get by. It's almost like lesbians have lives just like straight kids.

It turns out that--good heavens--they do. If everybody could accept this, the world would be that much better a place.

This book's a winner.

Very Highly Recommended

(nb: I received a review copy of the second installment in the series--"Driving Lessons"--and rated it 4/5. Though it's not 100% necessary--Ms. Hesik does a good job presenting backstory in that one--I highly recommend reading "The You Know Who Girls: Freshman Year" first. I purchased this book on my own after reading "Driving Lessons.")...more

Abbey Brooks is ready for her sophomore year. She's determined to get her driver's license, come out to her mom,, live through basketball season, andAbbey Brooks is ready for her sophomore year. She's determined to get her driver's license, come out to her mom,, live through basketball season, and get--and keep--a girlfriend.

With Abbey Brooks, though, nothing is ever as easy as it sounds.

I love Abbey as a narrator. She's funny and effervescent, not to mention self-effacing at times. Mostly, she's honest when dealing with her feelings, and her ever-changing world of friends.

"Driving Lessons" is the second book in the "You Know Who Girls" series, which centers on a group of high school lesbians. The first novel in the series is "The You Know Who Girls: Freshman Year," where we meet all these characters for the first time, including Abbey's first girlfriend.

I haven't read the first book (yet), so I missed much of the background on some of these well-drawn characters. However, author Annameekee Hesik has framed "Driving Lessons" so that even a newcomer to the series can follow along. If there is background information necessary to further the plot, she seamlessly weaves it into this narrative. It's a difficult thing to do in series fiction, and Ms. Hesik pulls it off with great aplomb. I never felt lost from not having read book one; I did, however, go and buy book one, just because I'm curious about Abby and her Freshman Year adventures.

Although I think anyone would enjoy this novel, one of the most valuable things "Driving Lessons" does is acknowledge that high school is difficult enough without the added pressure of being lesbian. "Driving Lessons" helps show that such readers are not the only ones in that situation, and that it is possible to find friends--even parents--who will love and support you no matter what.

Also, in the Acknowledgements section at the end, Ms. Hesik provides numerous resources where LGBTQ teens can turn for advice or other help. Not everyone's parents are as cool as some parents in the book, and these websites and phone numbers are there to help.

Abbey Brooks may not be the smoothest kid in school, but she has a huge heart, and that makes her adventures--and this book--well worth reading.

(nb: I received an advance review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley)...more

"Maxine Wore Black" is basically two stories mashed into one. Mostly, it works.

The first--and primary--story is an updating of Daphne du Maurier's cla"Maxine Wore Black" is basically two stories mashed into one. Mostly, it works.

The first--and primary--story is an updating of Daphne du Maurier's classic, "Rebecca." In the acknowledgements, author Nora Olsen calls "Maxine Wore Black" an homage to "Rebecca," and it does this admirably.

The other story follows the struggles of a transgender girl named Jaylen. She has to deal with things I'd never even have thought of: regular hormone pills, laser hair removal, even getting a valid photo i.d. so she could prove her new identity to the world.

The stories mesh one night at the Queer Prom, where wallflower Jaylen spots the beautiful Maxine from across the dance floor. They exchange numbers, but Jaylen deletes Maxine's from her phone--she figures Maxine is way too high class for her.

Maxine doesn't quite see it that way. Although she has a girlfriend--Becky (get it? Rebecca?)--who goes to Princeton, Maxine still contacts Jaylen.

One night, Becky dies, banging her head and drowning in the waters off Fire Island. Maxine is devastated, and Jaylen is there to pick up the pieces, as the two fall in love. The questions start to arise, though: just how devastated was Maxine? Was Becky's tragic death a suicide or an accident, or maybe something more heinous? And just how far would Maxine go to control Jaylen's life completely?

"Maxine Wore Black" is a good book, with some great parts. The mysterious death plot was beautifully handled--Nora Olsen has serious storytelling skills, and she draws Maxine as a truly insane witch. Jaylen is an interesting narrative voice. We know she's not educated--she repeatedly mentions she doesn't even have her GED yet--but she seems to have some intelligence. She quickly realizes that Maxine is controlling and manipulating every facet of her life, from showing up at her jobs to going through her phone messages.

Like many abusive partners, though, Maxine can go from vicious to loving in a finger snap. That's why Jaylen stays with her, even though we, as readers, just know this isn't going to end well.

The second, underlying story--Jaylen's transgender obstacles--doesn't always mesh with the mystery surrounding Becky's death. At times, it feels like the transgender part is just forced into the story randomly. This is a shame, for there aren't a lot of books that handle transgender issues well. "Maxine Wore Black" doesn't downplay the issues--Ms. Olsen deals with them in an honest, caring manner, in my opinion. The problem is that this particular mystery might not be the place to raise the transgender subject, or maybe it could have been handled more smoothly. I honestly don't know. It just felt like the novel's flow kept getting interrupted, which is a shame.

Maxine is a truly terrifying figure, and her scenes just crackle with insane electricity. "Maxine Wore Black" is worth the read just for her. There are many other positives to be said for this novel. Sometimes, they just don't quite fit together well.

(nb: I received a review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley)

Catherine is a type AAAAAAAAAAA (read that, extremely type A), and she hat(nb: I received a review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley)

Catherine is a type AAAAAAAAAAA (read that, extremely type A), and she hates Christmas. When her boss suddenly demands Catherine's underlings turn in reports just before Christmas or lose their jobs, Cat takes it upon herself to do all the reports herself. This means she misses out on her flight to Scotland, where she was to spend Christmas with her best friend and her partner.

The weather forecast is dire, and the only option left for Cat to get from London to Scotland is riding with her best friend's cousin, Holly. There are instant sparks between the two, as they drive through the rapidly declining weather. Things get so dire, that they make a pact: if they survive the blizzard, they'll make it a Christmas to remember.

Before long, the two are finding just how physically compatible they are, and how much joy they bring to one another's lives. They're falling in love. There's just one problem...an old promise that could ruin everything.

Amy Dunne's "Season's Meetings" is a fun, easy read, perfect for this hectic time of year. I loved vivacious Holly from the very beginning, and it was wonderful to see how she gradually draws Catherine out from her self-protective shell (she'd been hurt before). Add in a special Cairn Terrier named Kimmie, and you have a perfect little family...except for that promise.

There's nothing in "Season's Meetings" that should surprise anyone. But it's Christmas. There's nothing wrong with a little steamy sex and some joyful tears to make the holidaze (sic) a little more bearable.

(nb: I received a review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley)

"Treasure" is a fun book to read, a concentrated lesbian romance between a(nb: I received a review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley)

"Treasure" is a fun book to read, a concentrated lesbian romance between a shy college freshman and a stripper from her sister's bachelorette party. The two connect immediately, initially when one of the revelers pays for eighteen-year-old Alexis to enjoy a private-room dance with the stripper of her choice. She chose the girl known as Treasure.

Treasure's real name is Trisha, and when the two turn out to have the same Computer Science class at the local university, they find themselves drawn to each other. Friendship comes first, followed by an unabashed physical relationship. Throw in a little family drama on both sides, some difficult past issues, and you have the makings of a short, sweet ride of a novel.

I've read some other of Rebekah Weatherspoon's work--I gave a five-star review to her novel "At Her Feet"--but this one was a purely fun read. I loved how Ms. Weatherspoon seemed to be having a ball writing this story of two scared, scarred young women meshing perfectly.

The romance was portrayed sweetly, and the sex was steamy without going over the top (much was hinted at, if not described into graphic detail).

Best of all, this is an easy novella to knock out during a lazy afternoon or evening. I loved both Trisha and Alexis, and how their mutual yearning for love and friendship enabled them to span their different backgrounds.

This book is not for everyone (if you have a problem with lesbian relationships, you should've stopped reading this review a few paragraphs ago and moved on) but for fans of well-written LGBT romance--hell, or romance in general--"Treasure" is...a treasure. (Sorry, but I had to do that)

(N.B. I received a review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley)

The only constant in Riley's life has been the love and support of her ol(N.B. I received a review copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley)

The only constant in Riley's life has been the love and support of her older brother, Aidan. The two endured childhoods that would've crushed many kids' souls, but as a team, they endured.

As childhood ended, Aidan moved on to his further adventures, and Riley found an outlet for her own passion and genius through her virtuosity on the cello, which earned her a scholarship to The University of Texas.

It's at UT where Riley is really left on her own, with her big brother away. She clings to him as her only source of protection at first, but soon--with the help of new friends (and her first love)--Riley finds she can endure her past, and even face the most-crushing blow yet.

It would be difficult to write a huge synopsis, and not give away too many spoilers, so I'll leave that to the other summaries and reviews you might read.

"The Melody of Light" is a two-fold tale. First, we have Riley dealing with PTSD from a nightmare of child abuse, something she's only handled previously with help from her brother, Aidan. The second story is Riley dealing with her own romantic awakening. During her freshman year at UT, she finds herself torn between two women--one the brashly sexy Tori, the other the nerdily cute Beth.

For me, the book really picked up once we got Riley to college. It has nothing to do with her new girlfriends, or anything salacious as that It's simply that Riley seemed to blossom as a character once she started making her own way through life.

Big brother Aidan was there as much as possible to lend support, but in the end, it was her friends--and girlfriend--who saved her.

This book works well as a YA Romance, especially for LGBT readers, for whom there is a tragic shortage of decent fare. Some of the early scenes seem to drag with Riley at one age, then the next chapter zooms her ahead six or seven years. That aside, I liked the pacing of the book, and most of the characters were pretty well-drawn (though one I won't name seemed a bit cliched to me).

The last quarter or so of "The Melody of Light" dragged the bow pretty hard across the heartstrings, but then again, isn't that what a romance is supposed to do?...more

Carlton Mellick III is at the foremost of the new "Bizarro" fiction genre, and "The Haunted Vagina" is certainly bizarre.

It's also hysterically funnyCarlton Mellick III is at the foremost of the new "Bizarro" fiction genre, and "The Haunted Vagina" is certainly bizarre.

It's also hysterically funny in parts, oddly touching in others, and really, a damned good read...for some people.

Steve works in a call center, and one day he meets Stacy on a bus. Stacy is tall and Thai. The two become a couple, and Stacy moves in with Steve. Everything is wonderful, until Steve notices voices emanating from somewhere. Gradually, they grow louder. Then he realizes Stacy's vagina is haunted. Not even so much haunted, as being home to a completely different world.

One night, Stacy forces Steve to investigate further. And just as Alice fell down the rabbit hole, Steve falls down...um...a different sort of tunnel, until he plummets into the strange world inside Stacy's vagina. What he finds there amazes him, to the point where he's no longer sure he wants to leave.

This novella blew me away. It's a super-fast read, and it comes off almost like a verbal graphic novel. The blend of real-life and fantasy works beautifully, and the characters' behaviors are perfectly comical in parts.

I have to admit: I bought this book, because a Facebook friend of mine posted the cover on her page. She also posted the link to Amazon. I saw it was real, and immediately bought it.

I'm glad she posted this cover, because it led me to this book, one of the most fun reading experiences I've had in a long time. Bizarro world, I'll be back....more

If you want to know what this book is about, read the unusually long Goodreads summary.

If you wonder whether you'll like it, after Part One (during wIf you want to know what this book is about, read the unusually long Goodreads summary.

If you wonder whether you'll like it, after Part One (during which he lambastes fundamentalists), he throws them out of the book. "I'm done with you. Get out of my book."

The other reason I'd give is a quote from the Introduction: If you're religious, and you take those beliefs seriously, you're probably going to find something in here that offends you.

I'm not an atheist, not that it really matters I guess. But this book makes some well-stated arguments about various evils perpetrated in the name of certain religions. Further, the author delves into evolution, both of life on our planet, and of the cosmos.

I don't agree with everything the author says--nor the way in which he says it. However, this is a short, fast read, and author D. Cameron Webb is certainly adamant about his (un)beliefs. If you question your beliefs--or you are curious about atheism--this book is for you.

If, on the other hand, you are adamant about YOUR religious beliefs--especially if you're insecure or easily offended--you might want to give this one a pass....more

Author Leon Berger's "The Kennedy Imperative" throws the reader right into Cold War Berlin, where fledgling agent Phillip Marsden is given what seemsAuthor Leon Berger's "The Kennedy Imperative" throws the reader right into Cold War Berlin, where fledgling agent Phillip Marsden is given what seems to be a simple mission--to accompany Major Hank Leland to an international conference in East Berlin. East-West tensions were running high, and this conference was designed to clear up boundary issues. This was good. Phillip--who spoke Russian like a native--was trained to sound like a poorly trained American lackey, just to put the Russians at ease, just so they wouldn't know he was well-trained CIA.

The problem is, Phillip never arrived at the conference. He was taken from the Jeep, and driven to a desolate prison. There, he was kept in a stark cell with nothing to do except wait. He had conversations with the seemingly jovial prison director, but that was the extent of his communication.

Until one day, Phillip was marched through Checkpoint Charlie to freedom in West Berlin, while a Communist agent was marched from West to East.

When Phillip Marsden realized who that agent was--and what it meant for his life--he knew he had to get back to East Berlin and perform a rescue.

Meanwhile, in Washington, D.C., we delve into the machinations of the JFK administration, watching as they quarrel amongst themselves, work out solutions, and ultimately, have to put their trust in bombastic former General Lucius Clay in Berlin. The way the Kennedy White House transfers on-site control to Clay--and the way Clay goes eyeball to eyeball with his East Berlin counterparts--could make a novel in itself.

Meanwhile, Phillip finds an unlikely ally in his rescue mission, a mission which seems to unravel almost from the beginning. He's in a foreign land, and he doesn't know who he can trust, if anyone, or even whether he'll ever make it out alive.

There are so many beautifully set-up, beautifully realized scenes in "The Kennedy Imperative," that it makes for a fast, rewarding read. The problem is, to mention them here would be tantamount to spoiling the novel, so I can't really describe much more.

I can tell you that author Leon Berger has written one hell of a book, a sort of hybrid between Tom Clancy and James Ellroy. Like Clancy, Berger deals with all manner of political and military intrigue, and he has obviously done extensive research into both fields.

Gideon's Spear is not one of those novels that pushes you along toward its conclusion. Rather, it reaches out from the last page, and pulls you througGideon's Spear is not one of those novels that pushes you along toward its conclusion. Rather, it reaches out from the last page, and pulls you through twists and turns, ups and downs, and everything else author Darby Karchut can throw at you, till finally you reach the end.

Gideon's Spear starts off shortly after the bruises have healed from Finn Finnegan, the first in "The Adventures of Finn MacCullen" series. Though he's still early in his apprenticeship, Finn has had to learn quickly how to fight--and how to stay alive. In this installment, Finn discovers that new friends he's made might have more to them than he'd originally thought, and he finds himself with another potential rival apprentice to torment him.

But he knows the secret of Gideon's Spear (the spear, not the title) and how it works.

This information doesn't save him from his usual chores and training under his Knight's tutelage. What happens, though, is that Knight and apprentice grow closer, better able to communicate with each other, both in normal-life situations, and when fighting their nemeses, the Amandan.

There's a new twist, though. An old rival of Gideon's has come to their Colorado town, and she is by no means there for a friendly visit. She quickly forges a pact with the Amandan, and the goblins' prize will be a tasty meal of Knight and apprentice.

Once again, Darby Karchut has worked her own magic (presumably, not centuries-old Celtic magic, though it wouldn't surprise me), and produced an excellent novel. In Gideon's Spear, she takes things she mentioned casually in Finn Finnegan, and fleshes them out into hugely important plot points. I'd elaborate, but it would add spoilers to the review.

In Gideon's Spear, Ms. Karchut proves that she is immune to the "sophomore slump," the phenomenon wherein the second book in a series is nearly always flat compared to the first. Finn, Gideon, and the other characters are so wonderfully fleshed-out, we can imagine their voices, their thoughts, anticipate their actions. There's a seamless consistency in tone and story between Finn Finnegan and Gideon's Spear, a tribute to the author's skill.

Typically, I enjoy a novel, review it here, and move on to the next one.